Why does life keep going?
by Ghanaperu
Summary: "Why does life keep going on when what holds it together is lost?" AU, character death - this is more Don's reflections on the cost of what he does, rather than an actual story.


_Why Does Life Keep Going _

_**Why do people work for a goal that is impossible to reach? How does someone realize what the true cost of serving others is, and keep doing it? What is there that is worth living for – worth dying for? And why does life keep going on when what holds it together is lost?**_

Maybe someday I'll understand what all of this is for – why all these people had to die, why there are people who give their lives just to hurt someone else, why good guys turn bad. But right now I don't understand any of it. But in my line of work, there is no time to stop and ask questions. There are always more thieves to catch, more murderers to stop, and an ever-growing stack of cases to work on in between the others. Work keeps me conveniently busy, never makes me slow down and think about what I am doing or the good of it. I don't know if I like that or not, but I never complain.

See, the thing is, when I signed up to "help others", nobody told me what the cost would be. They never said that you can't chase down serial killers day after day without losing a little bit of your humanity each time. They didn't say that seeing all that pain every day makes you tough and uncaring when people you love get hurt. They never said how hard it would be to cultivate relationships when you're always working towards a goal you know you'll never reach. They didn't explain what it would be like to fail, for the bad guy to get away scot free. They never talked about losing guys you're responsible for – what it feels like to lose an agent because of your decisions. And they certainly never said that revenge on me can come down on my family instead.

My brother was sacrificed on the altar of my pride – I who wouldn't tell anybody that there was someone gunning for me, that I knew I was a dead man walking. I foolishly thought that all of his anger would be taken out on me, that I would be the one to die for my own decisions. But it wasn't me. It was Charlie who paid the price of my mistakes. And I never meant for it to end this way, but it seems it has. I tried so hard to keep "work" separate from "life", but with my job it was impossible. Criminals who are out for revenge consider anything fair game, especially things you love. I knew from the beginning that I could not do this job and keep my soul. I thought was willing to pay the price. But I was never willing for Charlie to be the price. What a high cost it was for my ignorance!

And now none of it matters. I didn't know I was working for Charlie, before, but I must have been - because with him gone I can muster up no motivation. I have no reason to go, to pretend to care about strangers and their problems. Some part of me always knew that the goal I was working toward was unattainable, that it was useless to try. But it was another part of me that said I had to try anyway – keep working to make the world a better place, one person at a time. Now that Charlie is gone, that little part of me that had hope is gone too.

But looking at me, no one would know. I do my job, same as always. When the call comes in for help, I and my team go out. We chase down the murderers and thieves, restore children to parents, confront extortioners, stop liars, and just generally act as the good guys. And sometimes people thank us, and sometimes they sue us, and sometimes they threaten me. But it doesn't mean anything anymore. I have no one to be afraid for. I have always known that signing up to do this was forfeiting my life. I didn't know it would be forfeiting Charlie's too – but now that it has happened I have nothing left to lose. Without him, I'm just a dead man walking.

_**How can a trusted friend become a worst enemy? How is it possible to lose the person you love most and keep living? Why do I keep working?**_

There are no answers to my questions. But maybe that is just because I never stop long enough to discover them. I don't think I really want to know.

And life goes on.

[So, I labeled this as Numb3rs, but I think it could really apply to any law enforcement officer. Any of them could have this happen to them. It's basically my reflections on the cost of working in that field - inspired by Numb3rs.]


End file.
